


Tattoo

by ShakeThatCocktail



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode 1, Ficlet, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Marking, Season 3a, Special Talks, Summer Vacation, Tattoo, Werewolves, alpha pack, alpha!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakeThatCocktail/pseuds/ShakeThatCocktail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles talk about what happened during the summer after Scott passes out from the pain of his tattoo. Let's just say the blowtorch wasn't the only heated thing in the room...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> So, this ficlet is set in Season 3A episode 1, just after Scott passes out from Derek blowtorching him. I really hope I'm not the only one who saw the way Derek and Stiles looked at each other during that scene :P
> 
> Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine, and they're easy to make when writing on your phone :P
> 
> Enjoy! Xxx

Stiles let go of Scott's shoulders when he felt his friend to slack in the chair. Derek continued with the tattoo, joining up the ends of the last line quickly before switching the blowtorch off with a _whoosh_. Across the room, Isaac didn't stir, perfectly happy in his drugged daze.

"Is he gonna be ok?" Stiles asked, nodding his head down at his friend. Derek nodded.

"The pain's pretty intense, so he'll be out for a while. But yeah, he'll be ok," he said, placing the blowtorch down and wiping his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans.

"Was it intense for you?" Stiles asked, and Derek arched an eyebrow at him. "The pain, I mean." Derek shrugged again.

"I don't really remember much of it," he grumbled, looking at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. Stiles grinned at his reaction.

"Did you pass out, Derek?" he asked, the mischief clear in his voice. Derek didn't say anything. "You did, didn't you!" He crowed. The assumption was no longer...well, an assumption.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around telling anyone that," he growled, and Stiles laughed, perching himself on the box that was serving as a table beside the two werewolves and swinging round so he was facing the wall behind Derek.

"I've always wondered what it'd be like to get a tattoo," he mused, pouting his lips as he thought. "In the conventional way, ya know? Needles instead of fire, despite the fact I hate needles more than fire..." Derek let Stiles ramble on, zoning out as he thought what Stiles' flawless, creamy skin would look like marred with black or coloured designs, drawing lines between the moles on his back and arms to create constellations. He'd become familiar with Stiles' body over their summer together. Scott had gone to summer school, and with his new 'better-student-better-son-better-friend-better-everything' regime not quite reaching the 'better-friend' stage yet, Stiles had been lonely most of the time. So, naturally, he hung out at the Hale House with Derek, and occasionally the loft, if they felt like it. Stiles said it was nice to get away from all of Scott's pining over Allison, who'd been in France, but he was proud of his bro for sticking to his promise and giving her the space she wanted.

_On the day they found out and Alpha pack was rolling into town, they'd been at the lake that was buried deep into the preserve. Derek was sitting on the hood of the Camaro, nose in an old book, while Stiles splashed in the water. Every now and then, Derek's eyes would wander up and watch the teen; sometimes he was splashing, sometimes he was floating, and sometimes he just stood there, waist-deep in the water so it covered his swimming trunks. It'd been Stiles' idea to go there, do something really summery that wasn't reading up about pack lore in the sun or research. The sunlight reflected off the water droplets of Stiles' back and shoulders, watching them slip down and flit between his moles, glittering. Derek had to look down when Stiles turned to look at him to hide his red eyes._

_"You gonna come in Derek? The water's nice and warm," Stiles called, as he flopped into his back and floated away from the shore. Derek only hesitated a second before sliding off the Camaro and rummaging for his shorts in the backseat. He took off his shirt as he went, much to Stiles' delight, and Derek refused to acknowledge that Stiles singing "Leave Your Hat On" by Joe Crocker as he did so made him blush. When he returned from behind the Camaro, clad in plain black trunks, Stiles was still floating, unmoving, with his hands resting on his stomach. Derek had been a little more than surprised to see how toned Stiles actually was under all the layers he wore; broad shoulders, sinewy arms, abs that weren't quite as defined as the rest of the pack's, but still there all the same. He swam up to Stiles, and turned on his back so they could float side by side. The sun lit up their eyelids red and warmed their exposed skin deliciously._

_"Hey, Derek?" Stiles asked, voice lazy and slow. Derek grunted back a response. "Don't you wish everything was like this? Simple, with no bad guys, and you can basically do what you want all day, every day?"_

_"Who says this is what I want to do? I can think of better ways to spend my time, right now," Derek replied, and he cracked an eye open to see Stiles looking at him, obscene mouth open in mock offence. He couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips, or the small laugh that bubbled out, and Stiles watched him in fascination._

_"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you laugh and seen you smile properly," he commented, smirking. He was clearly very proud of himself for breaking the Sourwolf's exterior. Derek huffed and they continued to float there for a while, the waves making their arms or legs or shoulders bump every now and then. Each time it happened, Derek felt pure sunshine stream through his veins, setting his skin alight under the fire. "Derek? If you could be doing anything right now, what would it be?" he asked._

_Derek decided to take a leap of faith._

_"This," he said, before standing up in the water and leaning over Stiles, pressing a soft kiss to his sunbaked lips. Stiles seemed to sink a little bit, growing rigid, and Derek began to worry if he'd gone too far. However, Stiles seemed to regain himself, and a tentative arm snaked itself around Derek's shoulders. Derek let everything out of the kiss; being in the pool with Stiles while being hunted by the Kanima, their first meeting in the woods, Stiles helping him when he'd been poisoned by a wolfsbane bullet. It all came to him and he kissed harder. Somehow, Stiles had become upright, a spindly hand weaving into his wet hair. Derek wound his right arm his waist, pulling him closer, and his left hand cupped Stiles' sharp jaw, adjusting the angle so their kiss could deepen. Stiles tasted like clear water and Reese's Cups, and Derek chased the taste with his tongue, Stiles' moan making his lips vibrate. When they broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, Derek nosing at Stiles' neck and jaw._

_"Is that a wolf thing?" Stiles asked, a little breathless. Derek hummed against his skin, and Stiles' knees may have buckled slightly. "So you do like me? You don't wanna rip my throat out with your teeth anymore?" he asked, and Derek chuckled against his neck._

_"The urge is weaker now," he replied, placing a soft nip to Stiles' jawbone._

_"Oh, that's good news? Do you mind kissing me again? Because that was really-" Stiles was cut off by a pair of red eyes and hot lips._

That'd been the last time they'd kissed. News of the Alpha pack and other bits of life had got in the way, leaving very little time for the couple to talk about it. Now, to Derek, seemed like the perfect time. "Stiles, did anything change between us in the summer?" He asked, cutting into Stiles' rant about tattoos and if they were worth it or not. Stiles just looked at him, gold Bambi eyes wide.

"Wh-Why would you ask that?" Stiles replied, failing to hide his stutter. Scott remained unfazed, completely still besides the rise and fall of his chest. Derek leaned forward, and Stiles moved instinctively back.

"Did you forget what the word 'tattoo' means, Stiles? It means 'to mark'. My wolf is screaming right now to mark you, and here you are, talking to me as if I'd be _ok_ with someone else marking your body, permanently. Do you know what that's doing to me, Stiles? Do you?" Derek growled the last part, and suddenly the air was filled with the scent of teenage arousal. Stiles' pupils were blown wide, his cheeks tinged pink, and Derek all but leapt on him, ravaging his plush lips with his teeth. Stiles let out a small whimper when Derek pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth, sliding his tongue across it to soothe the pull. Claws raked lightly down his back, and he tugged at Derek's hair with his fists, urging the wolf to go lower. His eyes rolled back into his head at the sensation of the stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin of his neck and Derek's cock grinding into his thigh. "Let me give you a tattoo, Stiles. Let me mark you," Derek growled against his throat, and Stiles nodded desperately, small whines escaping him.

Derek rucked up the hem of his t-shirt, pushing the plaid out of the way, before selecting a smooth, unmarked piece of skin across the top of Stiles' sharp hipbone. He used his lips to draw away some of the pain as his nail dug into the skin, and Stiles' rutted himself faster against Derek's leg. He could feel the heat of the cut, but no pain. It was a weird sensation, but one he thought he could get used to.

"D-d-d-Derek," he stuttered, hips losing their rhythm quickly as he became more desperate. When Derek's claws left his body, they quickly circled around to the front, cupping Stiles' obvious bulge in the front of his trousers before giving it a firm squeeze. Stiles came with a low groan, ending on a high-pitched whine, and Isaac shifted in his place on the table, but he thankfully remained unconscious. It only took Derek a few more hard grinds before he came too, growling into Stiles' shoulder and eyes burning scarlet. Both of them felt uncomfortable, their sticky underwear clinging to them.

"It's been a long time since I felt like this," Derek said, adjusting himself in his trousers.

"Yeah, it's been a long time since I let anyone mark me," Stiles joked, but quickly amended it with a soft kiss when Derek growled at him, at the possibility anyone else had marked Stiles. He pulled away just enough for him to look down at his rucked up t-shirt, lifting it a little higher so he could see the red lines adorning his skin. The simple, yet slightly-jagged, triskele was burned in his skin, almost an identical match to the one between Derek's shoulder blades. Despite Derek taking away most of the pain, it still throbbed slightly, and he lightly traced a hand over it, wincing slightly.

"Do you like it?" Derek asked, one hand stroking over Stiles' cheekbone, while the other cupped Stiles' hand over the mark.

"Yeah, I do," Stiles said, capturing Derek's lips in a passionate kiss, tasting the Aloha's tongue with his own. He made Derek's lips and heart buzz with a very simple statement-

"I don't think I'll be forgetting what 'tattoo' means for a while."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry, this was a bit of a weird uploading! I thought I was saving it, but turns out I was posting it, so the fic ended in the middle of sentences sometimes. Whoops! XD


End file.
